


Rainbow Connection

by TrappedInSonder



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geralt is soft for Jaskier, I've only watched the showdon'thateme, Implied Relationship, Jaskier deserves better, Jaskier's singing, Longing, M/M, Rainbow Connection, Singing, Slight game/book references, The Witcher netflix show, Why is that a common tag for me, Witcher - Freeform, Yes I'm in this fandom too shock, netflix, they're so gay, they're too cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrappedInSonder/pseuds/TrappedInSonder
Summary: Geralt continued on the path quietly, careful to not disturb the other. Eventually, he just lowered to sit, cross-legged, as if in a trance, sat in the other’s shadow that the moonlight cast.Geralt couldn’t help but note how ethereal the bard looked as he sat, playing to the stars in the sky and watching as they glowered for him, almost in response. Calloused fingers plucked at the strings gently, playing along to the other’s gentle vocals as if they were one.“So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it but I know they’re wrong...wait and see.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 91
Collections: Geralt And Jaskier Being Cuties





	Rainbow Connection

**Author's Note:**

> SONG WAS OBVIOUSLY NOT WRITTEN BY ME - Listen to Rainbow Connection by Sleeping At Last, it's so beautiful and such a Jaskier song. 
> 
> Hi hi! Wow, look at this. It's not Death Stranding?! And it's not angst in the slightest?!  
> Ludicrous. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this cute little fluffy piece I wrote!

Jaskier would always do this when he couldn’t sleep. When the rustle of the trees and bushes around him kept him alert and awake through the night, or he simply couldn’t find comfort in the bedroll beneath the stars. So, every time, when he heard Geralt’s steady rise and fall of breath from beside him, indicating the Witcher had fallen asleep for once, he climbed to his feet, retrieved his lute and songbook from nearby and wandered off to find a quiet place in which he would not disrupt the rare slumber Geralt was under, which was difficult due to his advanced hearing. Though, this time, Jaskier didn’t think of that. 

They’d set up camp just a short walk from a cliffside, and Jaskier was determined that is where he wanted to sit to write.  
Well, not so much to write, but to perform.  
Sure, the other was quite outgoing when it came to spreading his melodies all over the Continent, but there were certain songs that he wrote just for himself. They were soft and sweet and personal; He’d never think to perform them to others. Imagine the ridicule, they wouldn’t understand them. 

The male settled down by the cliffside, legs dangling gently off the edge. He crossed his feet as he retrieved his songbook, the small little leather journal he carried with him everywhere, and flicked through the pages until he found a new one, ink set a mere day or two ago. He lifted his lute and rested it in his arms, playing a few chords as he hummed to try and remember the tune, before taking a sharp breath. He heard the snap of twigs and glanced to the side, but it was just a fawn grazing closeby, and his eyes settled on it gently, pausing his movements as to not disturb the animal as it ate. Then, as it gently moved away to graze elsewhere, he turned his attention back to the scrawny writing spread out beautifully on worn pages, illuminated by the gentle light from the luminous moon and stars overhead. 

Geralt had heard shuffling and movement, which had roused him from his slumber. A lidded gaze glided to the empty bedroll before him before he finally rose, blinking the sleep from his eyes as it was replaced with mild panic for his fairly irritating, now missing companion. He took a deep breath to try and identify the other’s scent among the many entangled within the forest air and managed to identify the familiar smell of vanilla and chamomile. So he stood and made to follow it, growing a lot quieter in his footsteps when he picked up the soft tones of Jaskier’s singing just a fair walk away. 

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows and what’s on the other side? Rainbows are visions; they’re only illusions...and rainbows have nothing to hide.”  
Geralt continued on the path quietly, careful to not disturb the other. Eventually, he just lowered to sit, cross-legged, as if in a trance, sat in the other’s shadow that the moonlight cast.  
Geralt couldn’t help but note how ethereal the bard looked as he sat, playing to the stars in the sky and watching as they glowered for him, almost in response. Calloused fingers plucked at the strings gently, playing along to the other’s gentle vocals as if they were one.  
“So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it but I know they’re wrong...wait and see.”

The witcher couldn’t help but smile. What a very Jaskier thing to say. To see the magic in such a simple thing. He could deny and tease that he hated his singing all he wanted, but when the other wasn’t parading Geralt around like a show pony with his melodies, or making rude gestures and jeers with sultry lyrics, the male was talented, so very talented. Both as a wordsmith and as a singer, and Geralt could just enjoy it, though he’d never been one for a singsong. There was something so different about Jaskier. Something soft and worth protecting. A juvenile soul that clung to others with a childlike desire to be loved and appreciated, with such talent that he keeps to himself. 

“Someday we’ll find it. The rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers...and me.”

His voice was soft as it drifted into the night sky, and it seemed as if all of the wilderness had quietened to listen along. Yes, the calls of distant owls and the rustles of bushes as the wildlife within silenced to allow for the other’s melody to be heard. 

“Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on a morning star? Somebody thought of that and someone believed it...and look what it’s done so far.”

Usually, Geralt would dismiss such ideas. Ideas of fate and fantasy. That, out there, somewhere, something was granting these wishes, but when they were blended so beautifully into words that would shame even the best of wordsmiths, and released into the world by such gentle and soft tones, the witcher could do little else than sit and listen with a mind forced open to such ideas. 

“What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing? What do we think we might see? Someday, we’ll find it. This rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me…”

The night was incredibly calm as if the whole of nature had now calmed to listen along, not just the animals that resided within the forest. The waves rolled calmly up on the shore below, purposely soft as to not disturb the other in his work. The gentle rustle of wind through leaves had too quietened to allow the other to speak his emotions aloud. How powerful, Geralt thought, to still the world and convince it to listen to your ideas? 

“Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? I’ve heard them calling my name...”

Jaskier was too enveloped in his singing to notice how the surroundings had changed around him, even the presence of Geralt a little far behind. His eyes were closed lightly, calloused fingers strumming expertly at the chords, perfectly in time with his words, like he’d done this a million times before. That was his talent, he'd decided long ago. That, while others were skilled with a sword, in combat, or as talented strategists (or in Geralt’s case, all three) his place was within the songwriters of the world. It was where he thrived, even if he wrote mostly for himself.  
He would always have an audience in the night sky. 

“Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors? The voice might be one and the same...I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it, it’s something that I’m supposed to be...Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection…”

As Jaskier slowed, Geralt could hear the feelings in the younger’s voice. Such raw and powerful emotion that was expelled within beautifully sculpted words. He watched, unsure when the last time he had blinked was, as the lute was gently relaxed in tired arms, the backing melody was gone. Just Jaskier’s soft tones remained, though it did nothing to harm the beauty of the piece. Hearing Jaskier sing without it, Geralt almost prefered. It was here he felt one with the other. On tune with the other’s spirit in a way, he didn’t during their usual conversations. He had no idea the other was capable of such gentle and soft feelings. He cursed himself for not seeing this earlier. For constantly sneering and being so dismissive of the other’s talents. Because he was so talented. Filling-less pie, his ass. 

“The Lovers, the dreamers...and me.”

The bard took a deep breath, shuffling quietly before shaking his head and settling the lute aside, instead of reaching for the songbook. And with a rather jarring rip, tore the delicate pages cleanly from their resting place, scrunched them up in his hand, and tossed them into the draft, letting them float to the bottom of the cliffside. 

It was now Geralt stood and moved to hide within the trees, rather quickly deciding he had to find a way down the mountainside to retrieve the other’s discarded poems. He needed to, they could not go to waste like that. The action had shocked him. Jaskier did it like he had no other choice, an air of dismay coming off of his actions as the paper left his hands. Geralt didn’t care. If Jaskier didn’t see the worth in them, Geralt would show him. And he wouldn’t stop until he could see just how important this piece was. He wasn’t even sure why he was so determined that he needed to do this, his mind just decided it so, and there was no room for arguments or second-guessing, for once. Luckily, he found the pages after little time of searching, collecting them up and heading back to their campsite, where a tired Jaskier sat, looking concerned. Though the look faded when he noticed the other returning. 

“There you are! You had me worried, I had no clue where you’d run off to!”

“I could say the same, Jaskier.”  
The male grumbled, perhaps sounding a little more annoyed than he intended to. He sat back down on his bedroll and un-scrunched the papers, the sight making the bard’s eyes widen.

“Where did you-?”

“I heard you singing so I came to listen. I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

“You heard...”

“It was good, Jaskier…”  
No! Not just good! Brilliant, excellent! 

“Really good.”  
Agh! 

He’s not good with this complement stuff. 

“You hate my singing. Pie with no filling?”

“I hate your singing when you sing meaninglessly. Songs about me. Songs you don’t put emotion into. But this? This is different, Jaskier.”

He handed the creased pages back to the other, who took them hesitantly. He sighed and looked down at them, shaking his head. 

“I couldn’t do anything with this. It’s just for me, no one else would care to listen.”

“I did, and that means others would too. It’s really special, Jaskier. Don’t waste my efforts of getting them for you.”

And with that, Geralt laid back, staring up at the stars absentmindedly, ending the conversation and thus, any arguments Jaskier may have had.  
Jaskier just sat in silence for a little while, before returning the ripped pages to his songbook and buttoning the strap back up to lock them in tightly. 

“...Thank you.”  
He mumbled after a short while, glancing over to the larger man beside him. 

“For what?”

“For listening. It...feels good to know you like it.”

“Hmm. Go to sleep, Dandelion.”

“Yeah, alright. Okay.”


End file.
